C'est le récit, indépendamment de son contenu, qui est oubli, de sorte que raconter, c'est se mettre à l'épreuve de cet oubli premier qui précède, fonde et ruine toute mémoire. En ce sens, raconter est le tourment du langage, la recherche incessante de son infinité.
(Maurice Blanchot, "La Voix narrative (le 'il', le neutre)", L'entretien infini)

Chacun, dans ce sens, cherche à faire de sa vie une oeuvre d'art.
(Albert Camus, L'Homme révolté)

La "hautaine solitude" dont vous vous plaignez, avec beaucoup d'autres qui n'ont pas votre qualité, serait après tout, si elle existait, une bénédiction pour moi. Mais ce paradis m'est attribué bien à tort. La vérité est que je dispute au temps et aux êtres chaque heure de mon travail, sans y réussir, le plus souvent.
(Albert Camus, "Lettre à P. B.", Théâtre, récits, nouvelles)

I. Writing exile

The short story "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail", the focus of this paper, is linked to "exile" through the title of the collection in which it figures: L'exil et le royaume[1]. Exile in this story is not so much geographical, but rather physical and metaphysical. In a literal sense, it could be thought of in terms of the distancing of the artist from the community of his family, friends, painters and others, in order for him to work. However, to what extent are they all involved in the work? The question of one's relationship to the community, or more fundamentally the whole issue of existence, is raised in the story, partly through its epigraph and the name "Jonas" which take us back to the prophet Jonah's interaction with people of the Bible.

How does "writing exile" relate to the work of the artist? Could one speak of self realisation in Jonas' trajectory? The story traces both the rise and fall of Jonas as a painter and the way in which his work relates to his life in "exile". What is the significance of a movement in which a painter is constrained to occupy less and less space in the production of the work? The title "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" poses some difficulties since at times the artist is far removed from what is generally perceived of as "work" and the "work" left behind at the end underscores an absence. What is at stake in this travail? What indeed is the relationship between the artist's working and the work of art, and to what extent is "exile" or exteriority involved in creation?

II. Revolt

The text L'exil et le royaume was the final collection of short stories written by Camus and published in 1957[2], a few years before his death. It can neither simply be categorised within a philosophy of the absurd and put together with L'étranger (1942), nor can it merely be considered in terms of the revolt of La peste (1947) or L'Homme révolté (1951)[3]. Yet some of these questions of course remain pertinent in L'exil et le royaume, for example a certain revolt described in the story "Les muets". There is another sense of "revolt" in "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail". In L'Homme révolté, Camus writes:

Mais l'art et la société, la création et la révolution doivent [...] retrouver la source de la révolte où refus et consentement, singularité et universel, individu et histoire s'équilibrent dans la tension la plus dure. La révolte n'est pas en elle-même un élément de civilisation. Mais elle est préalable à toute civilisation.[4]

In Le Mythe de Sisyphe and L'Homme révolté, revolt is not one against the Creator. The world is godless; destiny is "une affaire d'homme qui doit être réglée entre les hommes"[8]. Indeed man vies with, or rather supplants, the Creator. Camus writes: "Pour Kirilov comme pour Nietzsche, tuer Dieu, c'est devenir dieu soi-même -- c'est réaliser dès cette terre la vie éternelle dont parle l'Evangile"[9]. In writing about Proust, and creation, Camus underlines a revolt of the artistic creator against man's mortality:

l'art romanesque refait la création elle-même, telle qu'elle nous est imposée et telle qu'elle est refusée. Sous l'un de ses aspects au moins, cet art consiste à choisir la créature contre son créateur. Mais, plus profondément encore, il s'allie à la beauté du monde ou des êtres contre les puissances de la mort et de l'oubli. C'est ainsi que sa révolte est créatrice[10].

The remaking of creation such that it is "imposed on us" and "refused" shows a notion of representation which in effect transcends finitude and revolts. A certain kind of "revolt" indeed surrounds creation and the work in "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail"[11]. The existence of the creator and creation are brought into question, as well as the representation of the individual and of the community. These issues will be analysed more closely through the narration of the story.

III. Narrative voice

"Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" is written in the third person in language which could be considered somewhat ironic or paradoxical; for example in relation to Jonas: "Sa réputation, par chance, grandissait d'autant plus qu'il travaillait moins." (1638, my emphasis) The narration, which describes Jonas and his presumed loss of consciousness, as well as other figures, is rather removed or seems to come from the edge of the scene. There is no sense of a narrator as a person; the voice is perhaps part of the scene and at the same time it exceeds it by being larger than life or beyond one "vision". Thus in relation to Camus' text, one might refer to Maurice Blanchot who challenges the conception of narration which presents the point of view of a character. Narration is no longer that which makes visible, nor can what is in play be the object of a seeing consciousness which now is shaken, even if not finished. There is a decentring of the work and that which is at stake cannot be of the order of vision[12]. In discussing Kafka, Blanchot underlines a link between narration and the "neuter":

La narration que régit le neutre se tient sous la garde du "il", troisième personne qui n'est pas une troisième personne, ni non plus le simple couvert de l'impersonnalité. Le "il" de la narration où parle le neutre ne se contente pas de prendre la place qu'occupe en général le sujet, que celui-ci soit un "je" déclaré ou implicite ou qu'il soit l'événement tel qu'il a lieu dans sa signification impersonnelle. Le "il" narratif destitue tout sujet, de même qu'il désapproprie toute action transitive ou toute possibilité objective.[13]

In a note about the "il" in this passage, Blanchot does not describe the traditionally fixed place of a subject, but rather a dispersal of the "il", designating "its" place as a moving place which is always empty, and yet also as a place which is always in surplus: hypertopia[14]. If, in "Jonas", the narrative voice is not simply identified with a point of view nor with the protagonist, nor with consciousness, what is involved in it? In what way does it imply a separation? How is it significant in relation to the question of the creation of the artist and the community? How might painting be related to writing?

IV. To Paint

It is as if there were a moving centre, or no centre in "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" that is to say an unequivocably successful moment at which there would be the tangible realisation of the creation. This is mirrored in the incessant manoeuvres of Jonas and his family from room to room in the story as more children are produced, or grow older, increasing numbers of paintings occupy more space, disciples and friends impose their presence and Jonas tries to find a workplace by implementing a different spatial arrangement. As well as being slightly suggestive of the theatrical displacements in the apartment, the word "pièce" for room, which occurs repeatedly, also underlines a sense of fragmentation in all of the various configurations presented. Moreover, the apartment is described as having huge, high glass windows giving on to other similar windows. Jonas exclaims in relation to this "aquarium vertical": "C'est le cabinet des glaces" (1633). This living space is unending, unable to be circumscribed and in fact defies representation.

Just as there is a physical displacement of the characters depicted in an apartment of mirroring glass, there is an ungraspable movement in the story in which Jonas, through a kind of ongoing detour, goes about the difficult task of painting. It is perhaps through the work of art that there is a reflection of "life" or what is an impossible depiction of one enmeshed in the web of life's canvas. This will be examined in terms of both the passage, towards the centre, in which Jonas is painted, and the canvas at the end of the story. It is as if Jonas needed to distance himself from "life" in order to capture it, a step which is fraught with danger. Painting, like the fish in the story of Jonah, soon consumed Jonas' life: "la peinture le dévorait tout entier" (1629). As Jonas becomes more well known, he tries to continue to work in the presence of friends, and to write letters, however the tension between the artist and the community becomes evident: "Il était difficile de peindre le monde et les hommes et, en même temps, de vivre avec eux" (1640). Immersed in painting and surrounded by family, friends, disciples, fans, dogs and canvases, Jonas' situation is impossible.

Jonas works less and his reputation falls, as does his monthly allowance. He stops painting and reflects. After enjoying a dissolute life for a while in the world outside, Jonas returns to build a type of loft ("soupente"), away from both the ground and the ceiling, a dark construction within, yet separate from the rest of the brilliantly, bright apartment. There he spends more and more time. Occasionally a friend would approach this shady area: "'Que fais-tu là, Jonas? -- Je travaille. -- Sans lumière? -- Oui, pour le moment.' Il ne peignait pas, mais il réfléchissait" (1649). However, the visitors disappear, "puisqu'on ne pouvait plus voir Jonas ni dans la journée ni le soir" (1650, my emphasis). Jonas, this spectre who barely eats and who spends more and more time in the loft, finally falls down and the canvas left is examined by Rateau. Jonas had become invisible to all, yet what about his painting? Had he constantly turned his daily and nightly life into a canvas, one which was a reflection of this "invisibility"? Earlier in the story, Jonas says: "J'aime peindre. Je voudrais peindre ma vie entière, jour et nuit. N'est-ce pas une chance, cela?" (1644, my emphasis; "chance": bas-lat. cadentia, du latin cadens, tombant, de cadere, choir, Littré). Is Jonas not only painting during his life, but also putting into paint his whole life, as well as the very light of day and darkness of night? Is painting so elusive that it is done in candlelight, but perhaps also with a candle? "Il y a eu de grands peintres qui peignaient à la chandelle, et... -- Le plancher est-il assez solide?" (1649, my emphasis). And then? Was Jonas' physical distance from the bright apartment, within the dark loft of the apartment, a way of reflecting on life in the canvas? Was the apparent separation a means by which he could throw light on life and animate his entourage, or even somehow step outside the aquarium of the apartment, whilst remaining within, in order to elucidate the activities?

V. L'artiste au travail

Jonas' journey is that of "success" and "failure", both at the same time to a greater or lesser extent. The realisation of the work is always difficult to define in the story; for example: "Jonas travaillait" (1633); "Jonas, qui peinait longuement [...]" (1636); "il travaillait moins" (1638); "il travaillait" (1641); Jonas qui peignait [...]" (1642); "Il allait peindre, c'était sûr" (1647); "'Je vais peindre. Il faut que je peigne'" (1649); "il ne travaillerait plus jamais" (1651); "Il travaille trop" (1652). Throughout the text, the timeframe of the realised work is in fact impossible to situate, and through the changing tenses which describe the activity of painting, the accomplishment of the work is never definitive. This is not simply because there may be multiple "works". Rather, this work cannot merely be contained within a frame[15]. To work even extends to the activity of not painting, for Jonas says that he is "working" when he is not actually painting, but "reflecting" (1649)[16]. The work is of life and beyond; the mark of what incorporates more than Jonas as a solitary individual. It is the trace of an absence or désoeuvrement[17].

This is evident from the following more or less central passage in which Jonas is both painting and painted. This passage is not just about Jonas' work of art, but rather it brings into focus Jonas' creative force and act of painting, particularly as painted by another artist. We are told that Rateau arrives on the scene:

Il trouva l'appartement bondé et, dans la petite pièce, entouré de connaisseurs, Jonas qui peignait la donatrice aux chiens, mais était peint lui-même par un artiste officiel. Celui-ci, selon Louise, exécutait une commande de l'Etat. "Ce sera l'Artiste au travail." (1642)

This work will be "l'Artiste au travail". The questions of living and painting are raised in other discussions with Rateau. Jonas answers him once saying: "'Non, je ne suis pas certain d'exister. Mais j'existerai, j'en suis sûr'" (1643). Yet when will this work be "l'Artiste au travail"? When will it be the work of work? And doesn't this picture, doubled up with another, imply an ungraspable excess always embodied in representation, or an infinite movement, such that its existence is indeed problematic[18]? There appears always to be something beyond the frame, if one just stood back a little -- that is if one could -- to focus on the artist at work (which artist?) or benefactress, Rateau, dogs and connoisseurs; for it is not clear who the subject of the painting is or where the borderline exists. The exteriority of the frame is inscribed in the painting.

The apartment is packed and in the room the art connoisseurs watch. Rateau, who observes from a distance and sees his friend engrossed in painting, is addressed by one of the experts:

Rateau se retira dans un coin de la pièce pour regarder son ami, absorbé visiblement par son effort [...] "Eh bien, croyez-moi, il baisse. -- Déjà? dit Rateau. -- Oui. C'est le succès. On ne résiste pas au succès. Il est fini. -- Il baisse ou il est fini? -- Un artiste qui baisse est fini. Voyez, il n'a plus rien à peindre. On le peint lui-même et on l'accrochera au mur." (1642)

VI. "Solitaire" or "solidaire"

The passage quoted above curiously echoes the end of the text and both passages concern the notion of the artist's work. Exhausted, but happily listening to the sounds of the world and his family, Jonas tells himself that now he would never work again, yet such abandonment cannot end the kingdom of "exile". As opposed to being the artist at work hanging on a wall, now the artist literally falls down from the "soupente". "'Ce n'est rien'", says the doctor. "'Il travaille trop'" (1652)[19]. In the earlier passage there is a virtual fall of the artist in terms of his reputation: "'il baisse'", whereas at the end of the story: "il tomba" (1652). This echoes the word "tomb"; Jonas had felt that the semi-silence of the loft resembled that of the "tomb" ("tombe" 1649) or the desert. The question of death and finitude are indeed relevant in this story, even in the words "'il est fini'" (1642), which indicate not just that he is "finished" but that he is "finite" and yet being transformed into paint. However, how indeed can a line be drawn between the finite and the infinite? The issue of the artist's "work"[20] poses precisely this question of the "invisible", ungraspable "split" of the artist, on the one hand captured in the painting and on the other, falling down behind the scenes: significantly, the artist's work is neither one nor the other. "Se remettre au travail" (1636; "il se mit au travail", 1649) well defines this difficult pose; the "representation" brings mortality into play through the linking of "peindre" and "pendre", from which it differs by one letter, and "accrocher"[21]. The work represents an "expérience-limite"[22] which does not simply fall within the realm of the conscious[23]. At stake is the Artist at work, indeed neither alive nor dead, or neither existing nor nonexistent[24].

At the end of the story Jonas has become, in a sense, far removed from the life surrounding him, a separation which is more or less illustrated in the final canvas.

Dans l'autre pièce, Rateau regardait la toile, entièrement blanche, au centre de laquelle Jonas avait seulement écrit, en très petits caractères, un mot qu'on pouvait déchiffrer, mais dont on ne savait s'il fallait y lire solitaire ou solidaire. (1652)

Writing alone, yet in "solidarity" (1645) with others, especially with Rateau, who reads the canvas at the end, Jonas represents the turning point between solitude and the community, between working and not working, between life and death, the borders always remaining uncertain. The work is unsure and full of chance. It is as if Jonas, the artist at work, the artist who falls, had stepped so far back, as it were, so as somehow to encompass all of the others and himself at the same time; or as if he had managed, performing this impossible task, to lose everyone at once, himself included, in this blank unreal image at the end of everything: in this sense in solidarity with everyone and no-one.

Jonas had written one word in solitude in the centre of the last canvas which otherwise was entirely blank. Painting has turned to writing, which was the employment occupying Jonas at the start of the story, for had he not worked in his father's publishing company prior to turning solely to art? The canvas ("toile"), the work with its fundamental word, is testament to the artist of the text. Indeed "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" has an invaginated structure [25] as it indicates both the artist toiling and the painting within the story, l'Artiste au travail, as well as "beyond", that is, it is the narrative voice of Jonas and all of the other characters at the border of another frame. "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" would be the title of a "toile" or text of the narrating "voice" which could be "the artist at work" involved in the writing of Jonas. The voice is "split" and could not be contained within the frame of the artist who produces this rich depiction in a decentred text. In a sense, this artist is like Jonas who, at the end, on the border of the text, will write on the blank canvas "inside" the text (that will be the "work" of the writer or, in a way, the Artist at work); or this artist, at the same time, yet in a different, incomprehensible time frame, will already have worked, from the border of the frame or text, the very story or canvas depicting the whole apartment in light that is this tableau of everyone and no-one. The "outside" and "inside" borders of the canvas are unworkably woven together.

An absence is in play between deceptive frames, as seen in the juxtaposition of pictures during the creation of l'Artiste au travail. It is now as if the imperceptible "accomplishment" of the text, reflected in Jonas' retreat and silent fall, were represented as a kind of blank canvas of the text; it is as if the "split", or duplicity, of the artist or writer working and the artist or writer of the work were captured within the framework of the text, a tableau which points to its own necessary limits. Again in play is the notion of representation: the borders or frames are tenuously held together and at stake is the very possibility of the separation of the artist and the canvas. The use of "or" in the title "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail" means that the separation of Jonas and "l'artiste au travail" is not clear-cut. Does the writer fall away, losing consciousness, whilst becoming writer and revealing the work of others: the word "solitaire"/"solidaire" being this fleeting, yet ongoing, ungraspable trace? It is as if, rivalling the divine, the artist were impossibly seeing his own death and birth, and that of others, in the canvas of his own creation. The "toile" or text represents a certain "revolt" or the difficult tension, perhaps of the "singular" and the "universal" in a sense where neither one nor the other exists[26]. The absence in the canvas, entirely blank save a word, marks the absolute exteriority at work in the text in the "narrative voice" which is in fact neither simply present nor absent[27].

The word in the final canvas is neither "solitaire" nor "solidaire"; it is like a "mot-trou"[28]; there is an emptiness of the "il" of narrative voice, speaking out of silence. It is in this way, which does not relate to a person or subject, that one could speak of "writing exile". The unfathomable character of the text is evident in the play between "étoile" and "toile", the elusive making and breaking of a bright "star" and a canvas, impossibly conjoined through the text[29]. The writing points not solely to the precarious existence of the artist or writer as star, but it is also the revelation of a multiplicity of characters and their silence; that is to say "hypertopia" or the absence of the work. Of the narrative "il", Blanchot writes that the other speaks, however, "quand l'autre parle, personne ne parle", for it is rather the neuter which speaks, namely neither one nor the other[30]. With reference to a number of texts by Camus, Blanchot writes: "ces personnages, si décidément tracés, ne sont que des personnages, c'est-à-dire des masques: la surface figurée derrière laquelle parle une certaine voix et, par cette voix, une présence qui ne saurait se découvrir"[31].

Notes

[1] Albert Camus, "Jonas ou l'artiste au travail", L'exil et le royaume, Théâtre, récits, nouvelles. Préface par Jean Grenier, textes établis et annotés par Roger Quilliot. Paris: Editions Gallimard, 1962, pp.1623-1652 et pp.2042-2053. The references to this text will be given in brackets after the quotations.

[2] The writing of the six short stories possibly predates La Chute (1956) which was originally to be included in the collection. See Théâtre, récits, nouvelles, pp.2028-2030.

[3] For a detailed analysis of these issues, see John Cruickshank, Albert Camus and the Literature of Revolt. New York: Oxford University Press, 1960; David Sprintzen, Camus. A Critical Examination. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988.

[4] Camus, L'Homme révolté : Essais. Introduction par R. Quilliot, textes établis et annotés par R. Quilliot et L. Faucon. Paris: Editions Gallimard et Calmann-Lévy, 1965, p. 676.

[5] One could contrast my reading of "Jonas" with the notion of revolt bound up with consciousness, or even knowledge, in Le Mythe de Sisyphe : Essais, p.138 and in many passages of L'Homme révolté where the notion of revolt is elucidated in terms of the cogito: "Je me révolte, donc nous sommes", p.432. Focusing on the return of Sisyphus, the turning point at which Sisyphus turns back on his life and descends again, Camus underlines that it is consciousness which makes this myth tragic, pp.196-198. Of absurd man, Camus writes: "Le présent et la succession des présents devant une âme sans cesse consciente, c'est l'idéal de l'homme absurde." Le Mythe de Sisyphe, p.145.

[6] Sisyphus is the absurd hero whose work is useless and hopeless, Le Mythe de Sisyphe, pp.195-196. An affirmation of hopelessness is already evident in "Le désert", a short story in Noces (1937) in which Camus discusses the Flagellation of Piero della Francesca: "Cette impassibilité et cette grandeur de l'homme sans espoir, cet éternel présent, c'est cela précisément que des théologiens avisés ont appelé l'enfer." Essais, p.80. On hope, see also Camus' interpretation of Kafka, "L'espoir et l'absurde dans l'oeuvre de Franz Kafka", Le Mythe de Sisyphe, pp.199-211.

[7] Geoffrey H. Hartman writes of Camus: "All his stories are, directly or indirectly, about true muteness, about a measure of solitude in man". "Camus and Malraux: The Common Ground" Yale French Studies. 25 (1960), p.105.

[8] Camus. Le Mythe de Sisyphe, p.197.

[9] Camus. Le Mythe de Sisyphe, p.184.

[10] Camus. L'Homme révolté, p.671.

[11] Of the great creators, like Piero della Francesca, Camus writes: "Tous leurs personnages donnent alors l'impression que, par le miracle de l'art, ils continuent d'être vivants, en cessant cependant d'être périssables. Longtemps après sa mort, le philosophe de Rembrandt médite toujours entre l'ombre et la lumière sur la même interrogation." L'Homme révolté, p.660.

[12] Maurice Blanchot, "La Voix narrative (le 'il', le neutre)" L'entretien infini. Paris: Gallimard, 1969, pp.562-563. "La voix narrative" is not of a subject, and is opposed to "la voix narratrice", p.565. Moreover, it is evident that there is a difference between the "voix narrative" and the notion of an author who signs a text. See Jacques Derrida's discussion of this, "Survivre", Parages. Paris: Galilée, 1986, pp.149-152; "Titre à préciser", Parages, pp.227-236.

[13] Blanchot, pp.563-564.

[14] Blanchot, pp.563-564.

[15] On the question of the frame, see Jacques Derrida, "Parergon", La Vérité en peinture. Paris: Flammarion, 1978, pp.19-168; and also "Le Facteur de la vérité", La Carte postale: de Socrate à Freud et au-delà. Paris: Flammarion, 1980, pp.439-524.

[16] Furthermore, Jonas' wife Louise, who is completely overworked, suggests that since one of the people brought in to help her is quiet and works silently, Jonas should paint an "Ouvrière," p.1646. After ruining two canvases, Jonas returns to a sky. Was there too much work to fit within the frame? There is no actual "painting" as such of this worker or of others, yet these are the other voices of the community which in fact make feasible l'Artiste au travail and which need to be recognised in the background.

[17] Blanchot uses this term, see in particular "L'absence de livre", L'entretien infini, pp.620-636.

[18] See also Camus' "La Vie d'artiste, mimodrame en deux parties" (1953), which in part resembles "Jonas", see Théâtre, récits, nouvelles, pp.2043-2050.

[19] However, despite the words "Il guérira" (1652), some critics consider that Jonas dies at the end of the story. See for example Gaëton Picon, "Exile and the Kingdom", in G. Brée (ed.), Camus. A Collection of Critical Essays. Englewood Cliffs, N. J.: Prentice-Hall, 1962, p.155; André Nicolas, Albert Camus ou Le Vrai Prométhée. Paris: Seghers, 1966, pp.53-54. For a discussion of this, see Peter Cryle, Bilan critique: "L'Exil et le Royaume" d'Albert Camus. Essai d'analyse. Paris: Lettres Modernes Minard, 1973, p.14; pp.171-172.

[20] From a different persepective, Jean-Michel Rey writes: "l'artiste fait en lui-même l'expérience d'un certain pouvoir. En somme, il apprend ce dont il est capable en le faisant, il mesure en travaillant ce dont il devient l'auteur", Le tableau et la page. Paris: Editions l'Harmattan, 1997, p.20.

[21] If in one passage there is a discussion of Jonas' being finished, and painted hanging on the wall, in another, Jonas is literally hanging, tracing movements in the air with his body, to test his construction of the loft: "En s'aidant de l'escabeau, Jonas se pendit alors au plancher de la soupente et, pour éprouver la solidité de son travail, effectua quelques tractations" (1649).

[22] Blanchot, pp.557-558; also L'entretien infini, pp.117-418.

[23] For a psychoanalytical approach, see Alain Costes, "'Jonas' ou Camus au travail" Albert Camus et la parole manquante. Etude psychanalytique. Paris: Payot, 1973, pp.206-211.

[24] Blanchot writes "[...] parler, ce ne serait pas affirmer l'être et non plus avoir besoin de la négation pour suspendre l'oeuvre de l'être, celle qui s'accomplit ordinairement dans toute forme d'expression", p.567, (my emphasis).

[25] See Jacques Derrida, "Survivre", Parages, pp.143-147; "La loi du genre", Parages, pp.270-273.

[26] The tension between Jonas and the community is manifest in the quotation taken from the Book of Jonah at the beginning Camus' story: "Jetez-moi dans la mer... car je sais que c'est moi qui attire sur vous cette grande tempête." Jonah, I, 12. In one passage Louise is described as "ce visage de noyée" (1648). How can one situate the words at the opening of the story: is this the voice of Jonah, of Jonas, of neither, of one of many, including one who conceived them in a story and named them, such that the quotation is neither inside nor outside the story?

[27] On "presence", see in particular Jacques Derrida, "La différance", Marges de la philosophie. Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1972, pp.1-29. In relation to some of the issues raised in the story, see also "Force et signification", L'écriture et la différence." Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1967, pp.9-49.

[28] Blanchot, "La Voix narrative (le 'il', le neutre)", p.565.

[29] The star, like the flickering light of a solitaire diamond appears and disappears in the text (see also Brian T. Fitch, "'Jonas' ou la production d'une étoile" Albert Camus, La Revue des Lettres Modernes. 6, 360-365 (1973), pp.51-65). There is a certain precariousness surrounding, not just the production and disappearance of light, but also Jonas, the "star", and his work. Without light in the loft, Jonas "reflected". The star is obscured, hence this soliloquy: "'Brille, brille [...]'" pp. 1649-1650. Rateau calls out: "'-- Tu travailles? -- C'est tout comme. -- Mais tu n'as pas de toile! -- Je travaille quand même.'" p. 1651. Finally: "dans l'obscurité revenue, là, n'était-ce pas son étoile qui brillait toujours? C'était elle, il la reconnaissait, le coeur plein de gratitude, et il la regardait encore lorsqu'il tomba, sans bruit." p. 1652, my emphasis. It is as if Jonas were impossibly painting and creating himself and the universe in a reflection. He expresses "gratitude" to the star whom he supposedly recognises, yet is this star "himself", or is it even perhaps, in this confusing reflection, she whom he painted, namely the benefactress, at the time when he was at once working and modelling to be the star, l'Artiste au travail? Where is the limit of his work, or the image of his creation?

[30] Blanchot, p.565.

[31] Blanchot, "Le détour vers la simplicité", L'Amitié. Paris: Gallimard, 1971, pp.215-216.